


The Ghosts Of My Desires

by Darth_Cannizard



Category: Joyeux Noël | Merry Christmas (2005)
Genre: Horstebert, M/M, Prisoner of War, World War I, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Cannizard/pseuds/Darth_Cannizard
Summary: They have lost 14 of their men as prisoners of war to the enemy in a skirmish, but they were able to take a high-ranking officer into captivity - Oberleutnant Karl Horstmayer. The first negotiations for an exchange have already been opened but Audebert doesn't want to give the delicious Preussian back yet.
Relationships: Lt Audebert/Lt Horstmayer (Joyeux Noël)
Kudos: 3





	The Ghosts Of My Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Finders keepers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375054) by [xsunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsunny/pseuds/xsunny). 



> This is a sequel to "Finders Keepers" written by xsunny. I made the promise to write one and here it is. I hope you like it, although it came out differently than I intended it.

Lieutenant Camille Audebert rises from his chair and notes immediately that he drank a little bit more than it’s good and reasonable. He was drinking more than he would normally consider wise, to be able, to have courage, to do what he is about to do.

It’s too much wine now clouding his mind and making his steps unsteady. On the way to his dugout he has to support himself here and there leaning on the wall of the trench.

They have lost 14 of their men as prisoners of war to the enemy in a skirmish, but they were able to take a high-ranking officer into captivity - Oberleutnant Karl Horstmayer. The first negotiations for an exchange have already been opened, the letter from the Germans is still laying on Audebert’s table. But he doesn't want to give the delicious Preussian back yet. He tried to explain the reason for this to Ponchel.

Upon arriving in his room he sees his prisoner laying on his side in the middle of the bed. Blindfolded. His hands bound at the delicate wrists and stretched before him. His breaths are deep and calm. There is a glow upon his cheeks indicating a fever. But Audebert doesn’t fear for his life, the wound on his thigh being a minor one.

He lays down behind Horstmayer touching his hip in a calming slow motion, like you would do with a shy horse needed to be reassured before mounting.

He smoothes his hand over the prisoners bared flat stomach and is rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and as his hand travels lower with a breathless moan and a welcome boneless pliancy.

He opens button after button of his breeches. But now Karl begins to struggle weakly. “Shh, hush, don’t fight it, this is how it should be,” murmurs Audebert almost touching his lips to his captive’s ear, “this is right, it’s **my** right, you are **my** prisoner of war, I can do to you what I want to...”

He has no lube or vaseline. Spit will have to be enough.

Baring Horstmayer’s backside is like a revelation. The pale and unblemished expanse of his perfectly rounded buttocks. Camille’s cock is twitching in expectance of what is to come. He is so hard now it’s almost hurting.

He moves his still clothed hips against the prisoners bare flesh. Opening his own trousers, taking himself in hand, gripping Karl’s hip to steady him, starting to push his cock coated in spit into him – all of this takes only a moment without the burden of remorse or hesitation. An inch in, the head is past the tight ring of muscles and then it’s going for and back until he is sheathed fully inside his prisoner. The bliss of his cock being tigthly embraced by the fluttering walls of the German’s channel is impossible to take. Audebert is already on the verge of an orgasm. He starts to fuck Karl brutally, his pace stuttering, mindless of the others painfull gasps and of the blood now staining them both.

And then he is coming and it seems to go on forever.

He wakes up in the middle of his own orgasm, drenched in sweat, heart pounding wildly, his cock spent and yet impossible hard.

It is obvious that at some point during the night he fell asleep with his head resting on his crossed arms on the table. His head is so heavy, everything is spinning. The dream is clinging to his conscious. His remorse of what he’s seen and done in his dream grows by each passing moment until he can’t take it anymore. He rises, and like in his dream, his steps are staggering and he is swaying on his feet. He begins to run.

“Mon lieutenant,” calls Ponchel behind him, “mon lieutenant, what happened?”

His unfortunate prisoner, his precious Preussian, is laying on the bed in the same position Camille left him yesterday.

He takes off the blinfold. “You’re so cold,” whispers Camille softly touching Karl’s cheek, “how could I have left you here, blindfolded and bound, exposed to the cold, without putting a blanket over you? How could I have done this?” A weak fluttering pulse greets his searching hand.

Horstmayer slowly opens his eyes and looks at him. Oh those shimmering deep brown orbs, but they look at Camille without anger or accusation or disgust, they are filled to the brim with another feeling that is the exact opposite to the cold sorrounding them, a feeling that is pure and unstained. Camille lowers his eyes in shame. “I am not worthy of your trust and love,” he murmurs.

Ponchel enters the room a few minutes later. He was searching for the young lieutenant concerned about his strange behaviour.

They are laying on the bed, back to chest, spooned and covered by a blanket. His lieutenant is rocking them both slowly, humming. Holding the german prisoner in a tight embrace, lips pressed to his neck. Both of their eyes closed.

Audebert disentangles slightly and rises meeting Ponchel’s gaze over the short distance. “He is alright,” he says, “everything is alright, he only needs a little bit of consolation. Contact the Germans, Ponchel. Tell them we are ready to give them their Oberleutnant back as exchange for our men.”

“But not today or tomorrow,” mumbles Karl. “Let me stay here for one more day, _Geliebter_.”

“If this is what you want.” Audebert lies down again and hugs him tightly and lovingly resuming his humming and rocking while the German leans back against him.

Neither of them sees it, but Ponchel smiles before turning and leaving the dugout.


End file.
